“Did the birds still sing, I wonder, when the first bulldozers came? Did they trill in greeting the dawn of that particular new day? Did they celebrate the bounty of Nature even as their arboretum surrendered to the great mechanical claw? Perhaps they crooned a different kind of song, a lamentation for a homeland lost to urban sprawl, for nests destroyed in trees felled, or for mates crushed by the merciless machinery. Perhaps they trumpeted an angry battle hymn and vowed revenge, as they gnashed their beaks.
Or perhaps birds are free of human propensities to decry and disparage What Simply Is. Perhaps birds respond to upset as instinctively as my cat, feet spinning in a blur like the Road Runner at the first roar of the vacuum.”